


The State of Being Proud

by missanotherboat



Category: Doctor Who & Related Fandoms
Genre: Drag, F/M, Gen, Genderfluid Character, LGBTQ Character, LGBTQ Themes, Sexually Fluid Characters, chosen family, pride march
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-01-06
Updated: 2018-01-06
Packaged: 2019-03-01 08:01:44
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,484
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13290567
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/missanotherboat/pseuds/missanotherboat
Summary: “We’re the only people in the world who get to choose our own families.”(Los Angeles Pride, 1979. Amy Pond has a chance encounter.)





	The State of Being Proud

**Author's Note:**

  * For [AuroraCloud](https://archiveofourown.org/users/AuroraCloud/gifts).



Amy tapped her foot impatiently on the pavement. In every direction, buzzing people were packed shoulder to shoulder. She silently cursed herself for a wide variety of reasons: agreeing to come here, wearing a tank top, underestimating the intensity of the Los Angeles sun, and finally (and most importantly) sending both of the boys back to the TARDIS to retrieve a bottle of sunscreen.

From beneath the shade of an awning, she concluded for the fifth time that venturing out to the drug store across the street would be ultimately impossible due to the crowds in addition to being time-consuming and painful. She took another look at her watch. Twenty minutes had passed. If she remembered what the Doctor had said correctly, festivities were going to start any minute.

She had stepped forward, resolving to call out for them, when someone bumped into her from behind. Her shoulder smacked into the brick wall behind her, sending her sunglasses clattering to the pavement.

“I’m so sorry, sugar! Are you alright?”

She followed the booming voice to a kind face, cheekbones shimmering with a radiant golden powder. Amy kneeled to retrieve her sunglasses and the makeup that had flown from the stranger’s arms. “I’m fine,” she smiled.

The stranger smiled back, false eyelashes widening. “Is that a Scottish brogue?”

Amy laughed as the stranger’s voice slipped into a crude imitation of her own. “I’m a bit far from home…” She casually eyed a faded poster for _Alien_ across the street. “In more ways than one.”

“From what I’ve heard about Scots, I better be glad you didn’t smack me upside the head.”

Even on bended knee, Amy had to train her head upwards to look the stranger in the eye. Still, she put her fists up in a mock-boxing pose. “Be glad I’m in a good mood.”

Amy tossed a small tube of eyeliner into the stranger’s bag and they stood. “Are you one of them?” she asked, indicating a congregation of performers boarding an elegant float in the distance.

“They’re female impersonators…” The term was accompanied with a sarcastic set of air-quotes. “I’m just drag.” She gestured at the sequined gaud of her dress. “It’s a subtle but important differentiation. Carmel Jones,” she said, offering her hand demurely.

Amy suddenly felt spectacularly underdressed. “Amy Pond.”

“You here alone, Miss Amy?”

“Just waiting for my friends,” she replied. “I sent them back to the…to the car.” She paused a moment to see if the lie stuck and briefly admonished herself for still tripping up. “And they still haven’t come back. I hope they don’t miss anything.”

Carmel laughed, leaning against the cool brick of the wall. “The best thing about pride is that there’s _always_ something to see. Is this your first time?”

“Second. Although the first was by accident.” Amy cringed at the memory of stumbling through a group of nearly-naked college boys gyrating near a telephone pole on her way to work. “Parades are usually a bit too crowded for my tastes.”

“No need to worry, Miss Amy, because this is a march. We’ll throw a parade once the fight is over.” Carmel pulled out a small compact and started applying another layer of eyeliner. “I’m not exactly Sherlock Holmes, but that wedding ring on your finger seems to suggest your friend is the gay one. Am I right?”

Amy crossed her arms and thought for a moment. “Well, I’m not…not. I fell in love with a man – married him, even – but there were…others. In secondary school. But that probably doesn’t count.”

Carmel chuckled. “It only counts if you want it to,” he said wryly. “I didn’t count for half of my boyfriends.”

Pausing again, Amy mentally ran over what she knew about the Doctor. “My friend’s not not-gay, either. I guess. I don’t know if he thinks of things in that way, actually. He’s very…evolved. But he’s a bit weird when it comes to sex.”

Carmel sighed, taking the opportunity to touch up her lipstick with a deep maroon shade. “Aren’t they all?”

“I guess, yeah.” Amy smiled warmly. “That looks just like a shade my mum used to wear.” A sadness crept into her voice.

Bringing a small napkin to her lips, Carmel delicately blotted. “Do you two still talk?” she asked absently.

Amy bristled. She didn’t – couldn’t? – think of her mother often. She had only ever received the bare minimum of explanation from the Doctor: that the crack had nearly destroyed her life, but that its effects had been reversed…mostly. She resolved once more to wring an answer out of him.

“Circumstances kind of...got in the way.” She sighed, tears inexplicably welling in her eyes. “Sorry, I’m being stupid.”

Carmel closed her compact and smiled. “Look around. We aren’t exactly surrounded by people with uncomplicated family lives.”

Amy chuckled, wiping her eyes with the tissue Carmel handed her.

“That’s the most wonderful part of being different,” Carmel said, placing a reassuring arm around her shoulder. “We’re the only people in the world who get to choose our own families.” She smiled, and the joy on her face was contagious as she admired the crowd. “Who else’s family reunions look like this?”

A radio on the sidewalk was blaring Donna Summer. Everyone was in motion, dancing and hugging and cheering. People all around held signs and banners telling their stories and rejoicing in their journeys. The unmistakable and immutable colors of pride filled their senses. They soaked in the magic of the moment for a while.

Tentatively, Carmel spoke up. “I hate to kill a mood, but do you happen to have the time?”

Amy peered at her watch. “Five after.”

Carmel swore under her breath, stepping out into the street. “I gotta go, Miss Amy, but I hope you enjoy the day. And your life!”

The noise was nearly deafening, and Amy had to yell to make herself heard. “Try not to bump into anymore innocent bystanders! And don’t go making them cry their makeup off, either!”

“I’m here if you need a touch-up!” Carmel yelled, shaking her makeup bag above her head. She started to turn away before turning back. With another bright smile, she reached into her bust and produced a miniature rainbow flag, handing it to Amy. “Tell your friends I said hi. Especially the other not not-gay.”

Twirling the flag in her hands, Amy laughed. “I will. Take care of yourself!”

Carmel waved again before dancing out of her sight. Amy only had a moment to contemplate the interaction before a voice called her name from behind her. She turned to find the Doctor and Rory waving genially, and she ventured out of the relative protection of the shade to join them.

The Doctor was dressed in his normal attire, but he had dropped the jacket and replaced his normal tie with a multicolored one Amy had discovered in the wardrobe. Rory’s typically stoic look was offset by a tie-dye shirt that almost matched her tank top.

He handed her a bottle of sunscreen and looked so wonderful that Amy had to resist the urge to kiss all over his adorable face in the middle of the street. Her thoughts were interrupted by the Doctor. “Sorry it took so long. We had a bit of a run-in with the law.”

“What kind of run-in?” Amy asked, patting the sunscreen on her shoulders.

The Doctor waved his hand. “Motorcycle lawman trawling the streets, motorcycle lawman tries to arrest me, motorcycle lawman turns out to be possessed by a digital ghost from the future, sonic screwdriver comes in particularly handy.” He sighed. “Bit of a slog, really.”

Amy shook her head, applying small dollops of sunscreen to both of their noses.

“Do I really need this?” Rory asked.

“Yes,” the Doctor replied, adjusting his bowtie. “But do I really need this? I mean, you’re a ginge, Rory’s half-ginge…”

Rory looked indignant. “Half-ginge?”

“In certain lights, probably,” the Doctor said, gesturing broadly at Rory’s hair.

“We’re all keeping it, and we’re all going to be glad we did,” Amy decided, shielding her eyes from the sun. She casually slipped her arms around them as they strolled out into the streets. The Doctor pulled a trio of rainbow flags from his pocket.

“We bought these on the way back,” he said, passing one to each of them. “Figured they might be useful.”

Amy held both of hers up. “Way ahead of you, boys, but I don’t mind dual-wielding.”

They both smiled at her. Her senses were overloaded and her mind was racing, but one thought continuously bubbled to the surface. _We are the only ones who get to choose our own families_. She breathed in deeply and felt the three heartbeats of her two best friends. She wished everybody could find a family as wonderful as hers, and she held her boys a little tighter.

**Author's Note:**

> The mystery of Amy's parents is (as far as I know) only explored in series 5 and [_Borrowed Time_](http://tardis.wikia.com/wiki/Borrowed_Time_\(novel\)). The idea of Amy being bicurious was widely extrapolated from [_Time_](http://tardis.wikia.com/wiki/Time_\(TV_story\)).
> 
> This story as a whole was inspired by [_Queers Dig Time Lords_](http://www.madnorwegian.com/697/books/doctor-who/queers-dig-time-lords-a-celebration-of-doctor-who-by-the-lgbtq-fans-who-love-it/), in which several authors suggest that _Doctor Who_ appeals to LGBTQ+ people _because_ of the found family aspect. I hope I did a decent job of presenting this idea in narrative form, and I hope it was an enjoyable read!


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